Serena’s POV

I watched Daniel Hawthorne order his meal with the ease of a man who owned the world.

His voice, smooth and commanding, carried over the soft jazz, ordering a steak, with a side of truffle risotto and a glass of Bordeaux. I sat across from him, my red dress tight against my skin, my nerves frayed from the shock of seeing him.

My fingers gripped my purse, as I studied him - his sharp jawline, his dark eyes flicking to me between words to the waitress. He was ...